For my final silence, I decided to have a self determined quiet time. I explained that during our finals weeks we often prioritize the needs of others over our own and d not get to value alone time, so I encouraged people to pass the fifteen minutes however they would most like. This meant they could leave the room, leave the building, read, write, use their laptops, meditate, whatever. I did not include a reflection at the end because I think there is too much reporting that happens in the last few weeks of school. Essentially I planned a private free time.

For the opening event, the extent of my involvement was assisting set-up and engaging in conversation with guests as they walked through our gallery. I was pleasantly surprised at the turn out of the event, there were so many more people (and interested people!) than I had anticipated attending. I was able to have some very meaningful conversation about the prison industrial complex that included both theory and personal opinion that I would not have likely had the opportunity to do without this event. Looking around at our collective efforts made me so proud of each person in our 360 and impressed me at how much we learned with and from each other. For the final event, the socratic dialogue, I co-facilitated and planned with resistance5, rb.richx, and meerajay.

I felt very satisfied with the presentation of our work from Wednesday to Friday, beginning with what I considered to be a productive and enlightening opening reception. As a member of the curating team, I arrived early and helped set up easels and foam board, handing out the placards that I formatted and typed up for each piece. We had gone in hoping to have some sort of cohesive “flow” to the exhibit, but found that we had many restrictions in this sense because of the crowded nature of the campus center; we had to put easels wherever they could fit, and 3D pieces on whichever table was empty at the time.

I don’t think I really began to believe in this event until it happened. Looking back on my thoughts throughout the process, there’s a consistent line of dread and frustration against a project that seemed too disconnected, too hard, too unreal. Even on that Wednesday, as I printed out my pages in the library, I was filled with the same negativity. At least I have something, I thought, at least I tried. As I held my project out in front of Farida’s camera, I bit back ­apologies for myself, for the work I felt wasn’t enough. Any of the pride I felt was squashed under the weight of unsure expectations. What is this space we’ve been crafting in fits and starts all semester, the space I helped create and name?

[I'm transcribing the placard here, because I think it serves as reflection of what I aimed for in my final piece, and I have attached a PDF of my entire project to this post.]

Freedom Forgotten, Works of Silence and Resistance